


libra, of second chances

by discordiansamba



Series: the stars shine a different shine [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Age Swap, Alternate Universe, Gen, Roleswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-04 22:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18821710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discordiansamba/pseuds/discordiansamba
Summary: When he was eighteen, angry and desperate and without any place to go, Keith made a choice- a choice which he always since regretted. When a man from the Galaxy Garrison appears out of the blue one day to offer him a job, he realizes that he's been given something he never thought he would get- a second chance.(or, a roleswap au between keith and shiro)





	libra, of second chances

**Author's Note:**

> I come to you with this humble second installment of this AU! Just like the last one covered Shiro's arrival at the Galaxy Garrison, this one covers Keith's arrival. I've got one other pre-Kerberos story that I want to touch on for this verse, and then I will probably take a short break from it. I do plan to eventually touch on champion!Keith, I just need to settle on my exact plans for him first- there's so many good ideas that I don't know exactly which one to choose! Alas. I'll figure it out eventually.
> 
> So, thanks for reading, and please enjoy!

"Hey, Kogane! Someone's here to see you!"

Keith glanced up, swallowing the last of his ration bar. Visitors around here were unusual, but they were even more unusual when they were for _him_. Someone wearing the drab gray uniform of a ranking Galaxy Garrison officer was even more so.

He knew that the Galaxy Garrison had a relief unit in the area, but it was tucked away in the safer areas, far from here. This had been an active combat zone until three days ago, when they had taken it over- and up until today, it had been vulnerable to air strikes. He couldn't imagine why one of them would have come all the way out here, much less to see someone like _him_. For a brief second, he worried he'd done something wrong in today's air strike, but somehow he didn't think that was the case.

The officer didn't seem cross with him. Out of breath, maybe, but not cross. He could be pretty oblivious sometimes, slow to pick up on social cues, but he'd at least learned to tell when people were annoyed with him- unless they were faking it, in which case, all bets were off.

"You're not an easy man to find." The officer- whose shoulder stripes identified him as a commander- observed. "Gilbert and I have been looking all over for you."

Gilbert, the mercenary who had brought him, just snorted. He was a good twenty years Keith's senior, and prided himself on knowing the habits of everyone in the unit, even the newcomers like him. "Nah, Kogane's easy to find. You just have to go to the highest possible point and pray that you can actually get up there. He's like a damn cat."

Keith huffed, but didn't say a word of protest. Downtime in the middle of a conflict was rare, but after today's air strike, his unit's involvement in it was pretty much over. Why not take the chance to take in what was left of the scenery? Odds were, he'd never come here again- or at least, he hoped not. It wasn't usually a good thing if he had to go back to a place twice.

"I'll admit, the climb would have been easier if I were ten years younger." The commander joked, before sticking out his hand. "I'm Commander Samuel Holt, with the Galaxy Garrison. You can just call me Sam."

Crumpling up the wrapper of his ration bar, Keith shoved it in his jacket pocket. He was a lot of things, but a litterer wasn't one of them. He had to have _some_ standards.

"Keith Kogane." He introduced himself, taking the commander's- _Sam's_ \- hand. "So... what exactly does someone from the Garrison want from me? I don't _think_ I broke any rules of engagement."

"No, no, you're fine." Sam assured him. "I actually wanted to talk to you about a job."

Keith blinked, growing even more confused. "If you have a request for the unit-"

"No," Sam shook his head, "-more like I've got a request for you. How would you like a chance to work for the Galaxy Garrison?"

"Uh," Keith hesitated, wondering if he'd heard him right, only to quickly decided he had to have misheard him, "-sorry, can you repeat that?"

"He's offering you a job, Kogane!" Gilbert supplied. "Chance to get out of this dump. I say you take it."

A job. He'd heard that there were sometimes mercenaries who got offered work elsewhere, but most of the time when someone left, it was either because they had gotten poached by another unit, or because they were dead. Jobs were rare for people like them- especially good, honest jobs. Nobody wanted to take a chance on a mercenary.

Then again, maybe the Garrison just wanted him to do some dirty work.

"That's about the long and short of it." Sam agreed. "Your commanding officer tells me that you're the best pilot he has."

"Well," Keith quirked a faint grin, "-I wouldn't say the _best_ , but-"

"Oh, don't be so modest!" Gilbert interjected. "You can out fly anyone in this unit. Probably in this whole bloody country. Definitely did a number on the enemy today."

Keith shot him a look. Gilbert merely raised his hands, arching his brows- but he did step back, giving them some space. He'd already earned himself a reputation for not being very social, making it worse didn't exactly bother him.

"I have to agree. I saw you out there today, during the air strike." Sam said. "That was some pretty sharp flying."

Keith just shrugged, shoving his hands in the pockets of his aviator jacket. It wasn't much protection from the winter chill, but extreme temperatures had never really bothered him. Eying the Commander, he noted the way he shivered whenever the winds blew in his direction, in spite of his large, Garrison-issue coat.

"You want to head down?" Keith asked.

Sam chuckled, looking a bit grateful. "Little nippy out here."

Keith nodded, already wordlessly beginning to make his way down, picking out the quickest- if not necessarily the safest- path down. It was probably for the best anyways. In half an hour the sun would set, and it would become a lot harder for Gilbert and the Commander to see where they were going.

Low light never bothered him. His night vision was sharper than most, even if his color vision suffered a bit for it.

Glancing behind him, he watched as the pair opted to take a safer route down. It must have been an office building once- but by the time they'd arrived, it was nothing more than a ruin. Subsequent bombings hadn't helped, though today's air strike would have effectively rendered the enemy's flight capability as close to zero. He still found himself keeping a wary eye towards the skies, however- if there was one thing he'd learned, it was the desperation could drive people to do things they otherwise wouldn't.

Always have your guard up. He'd learned that the hard way- just not from his time as a mercenary.

It wasn't until they reached the first stable floor that Keith came to a stop. He had to wait a few minutes for Gilbert and Sam to catch up, using the time to mull over what kind of job the Commander might be offering him. They obviously needed a pilot- which was weird, because the Galaxy Garrison had no shortage of exceptional pilots- ones with _actual_ training, not the few scant lessons he'd gotten before he'd been shoved in the pilot's seat.

He narrowed his eyes, thoughts drifting back to his last encounter with the Galaxy Garrison. They had come to his middle school for a recruitment rally- they'd even brought a simulator with them. For awhile, he thought he actually had a chance of getting in- his simulator scores had been better than anyone else's, but it wasn't long before reality came crashing back down.

It was stupid- he should have never gotten his hopes in the first place. The only way he was getting into the Garrison as a foster kid was if he got a scholarship, but they only had one slot available. His sim scores weren't enough to beat out James Griffin, who had come armed with their teacher's glowing recommendation, and his own history of violent outbursts and discipline issues hadn't helped. They had picked James in the end, who had gloated about it for the rest of the semester.

He probably _still_ gloated about it even after he'd left that school. His foster family at the time had decided he was just too much trouble to look after, so he'd been shipped off again. He didn't think he'd ever have a shot at being a pilot again, not until a combination of dumb luck and good reflexes had caught someone's attention. But by then, the prospect had lost any dream-like qualities it might have once possessed.

So what did the Garrison want with him _now_?

Sam huffed, a little out of breath once he reached him. "Gilbert here was right. You are like a cat."

Keith merely arched a brow at the comment. It wasn't the first time the comparison had been made, and he doubted it would be the last time either. It had been a source of annoyance when he was a kid, but he'd since learned to live with it.

"So... you said you had a job for me?" Keith asked.

"I do," Sam told him, "-if you'll have it."

Keith frowned, crossing his arms in front of him. "I'm listening."

"While I'm here with the relief unit now, my main job is as an engineer." Sam explained. "I work out of the Galaxy Garrison's base in Texas."

Keith's brows shot up. The Texas Garrison base wasn't that far from where he had been raised, back when his father was still alive. It was also the Texas Garrison base that had passed him over for recruitment before. While he wasn't exactly one to believe in fate, he had to admit, this was a pretty big coincidence.

It was more than enough to catch his interest.

"Go on." Keith said.

"These past few years, we've been working on designing a new fleet of ships." Sam continued. "Recently, we've been working to make these new ships a reality. But in order to do that, they need to be tested first. That's where you would come in."

Keith tilted his head. "You want me to be a test pilot? Don't you guys have your own?"

"We do." Sam said. "And that was the plan, to ask one of them. But when I saw you today..."

He shook his head. "I don't know. I just have the feeling that you're exactly what we need."

_Need_. Keith's back stiffened at the word. The last time someone had told him they needed him, he'd ended up being recruited as a mercenary. It wasn't like he'd had much choice- after he'd aged out of the system at eighteen, he was left with nowhere else to go. Nobody wanted to deal with him, and he didn't have the grades for college, nevermind the money. He'd tried joining the military, since at least that would give him a roof over his head, but he hadn't even lasted a month. Something about not properly following orders.

Some bitter part of him wanted to turn Sam down, to reject his offer, like how the Garrison had rejected him all those years ago. But it wouldn't be the same, he knew- the Galaxy Garrison could move on without him, but that had been his one opportunity to make something of himself. He couldn't imagine just how radically different his life would be if he'd been able to get in.

He probably wouldn't have any blood on his hands, for one thing.

But maybe... maybe it _hadn't_ been his one opportunity. Maybe he was being offered a second chance. Those didn't come around too often- or ever.

Still... it almost sounded _too_ good to be true. He couldn't help but be a little wary.

"Is it okay if I think about it?" Keith finally asked.

"Of course." Sam told him. "I'll be here with the relief unit until the end of the week."

"End of the week." Keith repeated. "Got it. I'll be sure to let you know my answer before then."

"Glad to hear it." Sam smiled at him. It felt surprisingly genuine, but he still didn't know if he trusted it. "I'll tell my people to keep an eye out for you."

Keith gave him a curt nod of his head. "Gilbert can take you back down."

"It was nice talking to you, Keith." Sam told him.

"Yeah." Keith said. "Nice."

Keith frowned, watching as Gilbert helped Sam navigate the partially collapsed staircase. Once they were out of sight, he lifted a hand, lightly pinching his cheek.

It wasn't a dream.

Keith turned his gaze skyward. His earlier estimation was off- the sky was already starting to be dyed in the colors of the setting sun. Clambering back up the way he came, he made it back to the top just in time to watch the sun disappear behind the horizon. He huffed, slightly annoyed that he'd missed it. That was the whole reason he had come up here.

Peering down over the edge, he picked out a pair of figures down below- Gilbert and Sam, who'd made it safely to the bottom. Narrowing his eyes, he fixed his gaze on Sam's small figure. He didn't know what to make of his offer. Being a test pilot was a risky business- maybe there was a reason he was asking him, and not someone who actually worked for the Garrison. He had no friends, no family- or at least, not any family that cared about him. The only person who would care if he died was already dead.

Then again, how was that any different than what he was doing now? At least if he became a test pilot, he'd be doing honest work, not fighting as a soldier in other people's wars. He _liked_ fighting, but he didn't care for killing people, which was a lot of what he did.

He just also happened to be really good at it.

But he was _also_ really good at flying. That was why he'd been poached from the last mercenary unit he'd worked for. He hadn't cared about the increase in his pay- he'd just been excited about the chance to fly a newer and faster plane than the old clunker his last unit had. There was also the added benefit of his new commander being a little less money-blind than his old one- he couldn't claim that he hadn't done any work that he'd found disagreeable since being taken on by this unit, but at least it happened a lot less often.

But now he had the chance to leave that all behind. He could start over, try to make a new life for himself. For once in his life, he had a second chance.

Watching the last rays of the sun vanish over the horizon, he came to a decision.

* * *

"I refuse to approve of this."

Keith's shoulders sagged, even as he fought not to let his disappointment show on his face. A week ago, he had accepted Sam's offer. This morning, he had flown back with him to the Texas base, thoughts of his new life running through his head.

He could fix up the shack like he had always planned on doing, but just never had the time to. He could live there, maybe fix up his dad's old hoverbike. He'd left it in a storage facility before he had left the States, the only real possession he had to his name other than a handful of clothes and an heirloom knife his deadbeat mother had left to him. Anything else that was important to him, he'd left in a lockbox at the shack.

But now it looked like none of that was going to happen.

When their plane landed, they had been greeted by a single woman. He could tell from her uniform alone that she was of high rank- an admiral. He could also tell that she looked immensely unhappy, a fact which she made no attempts to disguise.

"I know you have your reservations-"

"Reservations?" The admiral- who had very curtly introduced herself as _Ellen Sanda_ \- cut Sam off. "We're _beyond_ reservations, Sam. You're asking me to turn a mercenary with no formal flight training into a test pilot."

Keith shifted uncomfortably on his feet, tugging on the strap of his bag. He should have been used to people talking about him like he wasn't there, but he thought he was past that stage in his life. He hadn't had to deal with it since he'd left foster care.

"If you just give him a chance-" Sam began.

"No." Sanda said firmly. "I want him off my base immediately."

Keith bit down on his lip, staring at his boots. So much for second chances. He should have known better.

If he contacted his commander now, maybe he could get his old job back. If the admiral was in this much of a hurry to get him off her base, then maybe she'd be kind enough to have someone give him a ride to the nearest airport. He could probably still catch the next flight out to-

His grip tightened. No. _No_ , he had come all this way. The last time he'd been given a chance to do something with his life, he hadn't fought for it. He'd just let it slip through his fingers, resigning himself to the fact that he just wasn't meant for great things. He wouldn't do that again. He wasn't going to leave without at least _trying_ to convince her.

"Please," Keith said, "-just give me a chance."

Sanda snapped her mouth shut, glaring at him. Only now did he realize he'd just cut her off mid-sentence, the same thing he'd gotten in trouble for during his brief stint with the military. But instead of backing down, he met her glare head on.

She had nothing to lose. He did.

Eventually, the admiral heaved an exasperated sigh. "Fine. _One_ chance. If he doesn't impress me, then he's out."

Keith was sure his face lit up, much as he tried to disguise it. "That's all I'm asking for."

Sanda merely frowned, before she lifted a hand, signaling to one of the technicians on standby. "See if you can find Mister Kogane here a plane. Preferably one _without_ weapons."

Keith frowned, but didn't protest. He didn't expect the admiral to trust him. He didn't even _need_ her to trust him. All he had to do was prove that he could handle the job.

"We'll have you run one of our test courses for our advanced cadets." Sanda informed him. "Commander Holt can brief you on the course. If you pass, I'll _consider_ hiring you."

Keith didn't say anything, just nodded. Apparently that was enough to satisfy the admiral, because she turned sharply on her heel, her boots clacking against the pavement. Keith felt himself exhale once she was out of sight. He'd always had trouble with authority, but even more so with authority figures like Admiral Sanda.

"I'm sorry about all this." Sam apologized, offering him a weak smile. "Normally, we don't have a problem with integrating civilian pilots, but I guess Admiral Sanda feels otherwise."

"It's fine." Keith said. "I wouldn't exactly say that I'm a civilian."

"Fair enough." Sam admitted. "Let's find somewhere to put down your bag, and then we can review the course together. With your talent, I doubt it's anything to worry about."

Keith just nodded, letting Sam lead him further into the Garrison. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander, drinking in every detail. If he failed to impress the admiral, this might be his only chance to see what it was like in here. He knew the exterior well- he drove by it often enough on the rare occasions he had enough leave time to make his way back to the shack- but he'd never been inside.

"This is my office." Sam told him, unlocking a door with the swipe of a card. "You can set your things down inside, if you like."

Keith nodded again, following him inside. He set his bag down on an empty chair, taking in his surroundings. Sam's office was filled with various books, on everything from engineering to astrophysics. He'd talked a lot about the planes that he was working on building for the Garrison on the flight over, and while he hadn't understood most of it, he knew enough to know that Sam was clearly both extremely smart and extremely talented in his own right.

He really wanted to try and fly a plane he'd made.

"Take a seat." Sam told him, already sitting at his desk. "We can go over the course now, but if you're not feeling up to taking the actual test today, I'm sure even the admiral would be willing to reschedule. She's stubborn, but not entirely unreasonable."

"I'm fine." Keith told him. "Never had a problem with jetlag."

"Wish I could say the same." Sam observed. "You would think all the space travel would help."

Keith blinked. "You've been to space?"

"Several times." Sam told him. "My last mission took me as far as Saturn."

_Space_. Keith couldn't help but marvel at that. It had always fascinated him, even as a kid. His dad would always tell him stories about far distant planets. He remembered wanting to go see them for himself, too young to realize that his dad was just making it all up. But even once he did, his desire to reach the stars hadn't faded.

It had crashed and burned when he reached middle school, when he realized it would never happen. That he was destined to be just as earth-bound as everyone else. And while he eventually had gotten his chance to fly, space remained nothing more than a distant dream.

It probably still would be, even if he got the job. But he'd be a lot closer to it than before.

"So," Keith began, trying to change the subject before it looked like he was interested, "-what's this course I'm supposed to fly like?"

Sam smiled, reaching into his desk and pulling out a roll of paper, unrolling it on his desk. As he explained the course, Keith listened as best he could, trying to bury any thoughts of the impossible. He had learned a long time ago that nothing good came from dreams. His simple childhood dream of being a pilot had lead him to terrible places, so right now all he was looking for was something would let him put that all behind him.

Space was out of the question.

* * *

He'd passed the course with flying colors, and Admiral Sanda had been forced to begrudgingly accept that he had talent. With it came extremely limited clearance to the base- he was to be accompanied at all times by someone from upper command, and even then the areas he could enter were considerably restricted. The only times he would even be welcome on base were when there was work for him, but he'd still get paid a regular salary at least- plus hazard pay, which was more than he could say about his last job.

Keith didn't mind. He was glad to just _have_ the job.

Sanda had looked relieved when he said that he didn't need any housing. He got the feeling she didn't want him on her base for any longer than was absolutely needed. She'd been more than happy to have someone give him a ride to town, where he had rented a hoverbike and then begun the process to get his dad's old hoverbike shipped to him. He bought a few necessities, and then headed out into the desert.

The shack was exactly as he'd left it, just dustier. He spent roughly an hour washing away as much dust as he could manage, before he gave up. Any surfaces he might eat off were clean, and that was the most important part.

Flopping down on the couch, he didn't even bother kicking off his boots. He might be immune to jetlag, but he wasn't immune to exhaustion- and it had been a long day. He knew he should try and dig out his camp stove and cook something, but he didn't have the energy to. He'd eaten in town anyways, so it wasn't like he was starving or anything.

Closing his eyes, Keith dozed, but didn't quite fall asleep. He was still turning over the day's events in his head. Cracking an eye open, he reached towards his bag, opening one of the front flaps and pulling out the ID card that Sanda had reluctantly had printed for him. He was scowling in the photo, but it didn't matter.

He'd gotten his second chance. Now he just had to make sure he didn't waste it.

Easier said than done.

Huffing slightly, Keith placed the ID card down on the makeshift coffee table. Rolling over on his side, he closed his eyes again. He didn't know if he deserved it, but since it had been given to him, he'd take it.

As he drifted off to sleep, it felt like there was a nagging detail he was forgetting. Ah well. Probably wasn't important.

* * *

"When I heard Commander Holt had hired a new test pilot, I didn't think it would be you."

Ah. That was it.

Ordinarily, he would have long forgotten James Griffin's name and face. But his role in diverting his life's path had prevented him from ever truly doing so. He hadn't changed much since the last time they'd met- taller, obviously, more grown up. He was wearing the drab gray uniform of a Garrison officer, his stripes indicating his rank as that of a lieutenant.

Keith huffed, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. His dark red aviator jacket stood out amongst all the gray, but it wasn't like anyone had given him a uniform or anything. He was technically employed by the Garrison, but he wasn't a part of it. Sam had shown him where they stored their pressure suits, and they'd had him fitted for one, but it wasn't like he actually owned it, or would be wearing it the entire time he was on base. Just when he had to fly.

They hadn't issued him any dog tags either, but that was fine. He still had his tags from the first mercenary unit he'd joined, back when he'd just been a desperate, angry eighteen year old kid looking for a way to survive. He'd had newer ones printed since then, but he never wore them.

They were a reminder of the choice he'd made. Some people might pity him, say he'd been exploited and lied to. But he'd known what he was getting into. He was just desperate enough not to care.

"Griffin." Keith said curtly. "Been a long time."

"Not since middle school." James observed, arching a brow. "Thought I'd never have to see your face again."

"Hoped I'd never to have to see yours again either." Keith countered. "So what, you're a lieutenant now?"

James beamed with pride, the same gloating kind he knew from the past, only tempered a bit with age. "That's right. First in my class."

"That so?" Keith asked, stifling a yawn. "Nice. Who'd you butter up to get that rank?"

James shot him a glare. "No one. I got here through my own hard work, unlike _some_ people."

It took Keith a second to realize that by _some people_ he meant _him_. Blinking, he tilted his head, staring at James in confusion. "What are you even talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, Kogane. I don't know how you convinced Commander Holt to let you in," James said, "-but whatever you did, it's not going to keep you here for long. This isn't a place where you can just goof around."

Keith's brow twitched, something in him snapping. Commander Holt was the one who had invited him, not the other way around. He didn't appreciate the insinuation that he'd somehow bribed his way into the Garrison- like he even had the money for that. "I didn't come here to _goof around_. I came here to _work_."

"I heard the admiral doesn't even want you here." James stated.

"She didn't." Keith admitted with a shrug, trying to reel back in his temper. He wasn't in middle school anymore. Getting into a fight with James would just cost him his job, and he wasn't willing to risk that. "But she admits that I have talent."

James snapped his mouth shut, glowering at him. Guess he'd grown up a little too, because he also took a step back, trying to reel in his temper. "Heard you became a mercenary."

Keith twitched in spite of himself. He didn't know how James did it, but he somehow always managed to pick up on his sore spots.

" _Ex_ -mercenary now." Keith told him, ignoring how recent that _ex_ was. "I'm putting that behind me."

James snorted. "Yeah, well, let's just see how long that lasts."

"It will." Keith stated firmly. "So you'd better get used to seeing my face, Griffin."

"Then you'd better get used to seeing mine, Kogane." James shot back. "Because as soon as those planes that you're testing roll out of production, _I'm_ going to be the one flying them."

Keith opened his mouth to retort when the door to Sam's office opened. The commander blinked, glancing between the two of him, before his gaze settled on James. "Lieutenant Griffin. Did you need something?"

"Commander." James said stiffly. "Just came by to see if you knew where the extra flight manuals are for the XY-7s. I don't have enough for my class."

"Lieutenant Leifsdottir came by earlier. She probably still has them." Sam told him.

"Copy that. I'll go track her down." James gave Sam a curt nod, before turning his head slightly to shoot him a glare. "See you around base, Kogane."

"Wouldn't miss it." Keith said, his tone as dry as the desert just outside.

Sam watched as James turned and left, before looking back towards him. "Someone you know?"

"You could say that." Keith said curtly. "We used to go to the same middle school."

"Huh," Sam said, arching his brows, "-well how about that? Life can be awfully funny that way sometimes."

_He_ didn't find it funny, but he just kept his mouth shut. As much as he hated to admit it, James had a point. His position here was tenuous at best- and probably depended solely on him staying in Commander Holt's good graces. He didn't want to ruin his chances by making a smart remark where it wasn't wanted or needed.

He could manage that. Probably.

"Anyways," Sam continued, thankfully changing the subject, "-how about I take you down to see the planes you'll be testing? Not all of them are ready yet, but there are a few that are fairly close to the testing phase. We just have to finish the last of the safety checks."

Keith gave him a curt nod, falling into step behind the commander. He was eager to find out what it was that he would be flying. Whatever it was, it was bound to be amazing- not to mention _fast_. Nothing he had ever flown back when he was a mercenary was ever fast enough to satisfy the itch, so he was almost brimming with anticipation now.

Maybe it would be people like James who would end up flying them regularly- but he'd get to fly them _first_.

Sam lead him into a wide elevator, but instead of pressing any buttons, he just swiped his card against a scanner. The elevator jerked, then began to move, going down past the marked basement floors. It wasn't until they were past the last of them that he realized that there was actually a window in the elevator- one that revealed a massive underground hangar, hidden from the public eye.

It was filled with all kinds of planes and even a few spaceships, all in varying stages of development. He wasn't too proud to admit that his jaw dropped as he gazed out across the length of the hangar, wondering if he'd be testing _all_ of them.

God, he hoped so.

"We've got two fighters that are just about ready for testing." Sam informed him. "So you should get your first call to come in sometime next week, once all the preliminary safety check are done."

"I could fly them for you right now, if you wanted." Keith offered.

Sam gave him a faint smile. "Glad to see you're eager, but we have the safety checks for a reason. Wouldn't want to have missed something important."

Keith just shrugged. "Thought that was why you had test pilots."

"True." Sam said. "But you'd probably like to be sure that the plane won't explode as soon as you turn on the ignition."

"That's a... fair point." Keith admitted. "Has that ever happened before?"

"Just once." Sam told him. "An issue with the wiring. We've made sure to not let it happen again."

Keith just nodded. "Safety checks sound good."

Sam chuckled, just as the elevator doors opened. "That they do. Come on, I'll show you around."

Trailing after the commander, Keith could barely focus on anything he was saying. He was too focused on all the work going on around them, people bustling to and fro. The hangar was massive, but somehow it didn't seem quite big enough for all the numerous projects that were going on inside of it.

In the center of it all was what looked to be the frame of a massive shuttle. It was clearly still in the early development stages, but whatever it was, he sensed it was important.

"So... what's all this for?" Keith finally asked.

"Glad you asked." Sam looked back at him, a broad smile on his face. "The Galaxy Garrison is currently finalizing plans to begin a new deep space expedition. But in order to do that, there's a lot of components that we have to test first."

Keith blinked. "Deep space?"

"You keep this between the two of us," Sam put a finger to his lips, "-but we're on the cusp of making history. The mission won't be formally announced for another year or so, but we'll be heading where no human has ever gone before- all the way out to Kerberos."

Kerberos. Keith's eyes went wide. That was all the way on the edge of the solar system. No one had ever been out that far before. Sam wasn't kidding when he said it would be history making- it would make the Calypso mission look like small potatoes.

He felt a tremble of excitement run through him, but quickly fought it back. It wasn't like _he'd_ be picked to fly it. He'd never even been into space before.

God, they'd probably pick _Griffin_. He didn't know if he could stomach that.

"How long would something like that even take?" Keith asked.

"Well, if my new propulsion system works, probably around five months or so." Sam told him. "Then another five months to return to Earth. We're already testing the environment that the astronauts will live in separately. My wife's actually assisting with the development of the agricultural component."

"Your wife?" Keith asked. He'd seen the picture on Sam's desk, so he knew he was married, but he hadn't known that she worked for the Garrison. "She works for the Garrison too?"

"That she does." Sam nodded. "My son's a first year cadet here, too. Katie's a little too young to enroll, but I'm pretty sure she's got her sights on the cadet program too."

"Is he a pilot?" Keith automatically asked.

"Engineer, actually." Sam smiled. "Taking after his old man. Maybe you'll see him around sometime, since he likes to swing by to lend a hand. His name's Matt."

"I don't know if Admiral Sanda will want me anywhere near the cadets." Keith said.

"I wouldn't worry too much about the admiral thinks." Sam told him. "She'll see sense. Eventually."

Keith frowned. Somehow, he kind of doubted it. She didn't exactly seem like the type who changed her mind that often. Then again, reading people wasn't exactly one of his talents- at least, not outside of combat. There he could read people like an open book, which while useful, he couldn't help but wish the skill would carry over to his civilian life. But he guessed that was a little too much to ask for.

"So," Sam began, "-how about it? Think you made the right choice?"

Gazing out across the wide hangar, Keith felt the edge of his lips twitch into a smile. Maybe he still had his concerns, but they did nothing to dwindle the excitement he felt.

"Yeah," Keith said, "-I think so."

"Glad to hear it." Sam said, and then to his surprise, gave him a pat on the back. "Come on. The safety checks might not be done yet, but I think we can still give you a chance to familiarize yourself with the cockpit. Unless you'd rather wait...?"

Keith grinned. "No sir."

He was a lot of things- but patient wasn't one of them.


End file.
